


Frosting Flavoured Kisses

by Cole_Ramsey



Series: Project HYBRID [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Ace and Duo are both seventeen, Established Relationship, Fluff, Innuendo, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, They've got the libido of seventeen year olds, lots of talk about sex, there is also baking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7500804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cole_Ramsey/pseuds/Cole_Ramsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Ace and Duo break all the rules and bake together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frosting Flavoured Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> I made a playlist for this work! You can listen to it [here](http://8tracks.com/cosmic-leviathan/frosting-flavoured-kisses) if you'd like. (It's kind of NSFW, so listen to it with headphones.)  
>    
> [Here](http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/paula-deen/chocolate-espresso-cupcakes-recipe.html) is the recipe used.

A few streets away, a car door slams and Ace jerks awake, arms curling tighter around the body nestled against him reflexively, his eyes wide and assessing, muscles coiled tightly, ready to fight their way out if he needs too. Coming to the conclusion that there is no outstanding threat, the dark haired boy lets his head fall back on the pillows, air leaving his lungs in a long ‘ _whoosh_ ’ as the tension in his chest uncoils.

Taking a deep breath, Ace runs a hand up Duo’s side and through his hair as he exhales. The other hand rests on Duo’s hip, and he draws lazy circles into the skin with his thumb. The other boy is draped across Ace’s chest, his weight warm and reassuring. His breathing is even – his sleep seemingly undisturbed – and Ace tries to match it.

 _‘God, I’ll never get used to this.’_ he thinks as his eyes settle on a spot on the ceiling, fingers carding absently through Duo’s hair. ‘ _Never. Not in a million years.’_ They’ve been out of the Facility for more than a decade at this point and he and Duo have been together as a couple for five and have shared a bed for even longer than that to keep nightmares away, but Ace doesn’t think he will _ever_ get used to waking up next to this boy. To be able to wrap his arms around him and know that he’s there, solid and warm and _real_ , and that they’re both safe.

“You think too loudly Ves’tacha.” a voice, thick and heavy with sleep, murmurs.

Ace nearly jumps out of his skin, the hand in Duo’s hair falling down to his side, hitting the mattress with a soft, muted, thump.

Tilting his head a little, Ace sees Duo looking back at him with a sleepy smile. “Sorry Kitten.”  He murmurs. “How long have you been awake?”

“Long enough to know you’ve been staring at that spot in the ceiling very intently for a while. Is it interesting?”

“Oh very.” Ace says with a grin. “It holds all the secrets of the universe.”

“Mm, the secrets of the universe, huh?” Duo’s tone is as sleepy as it teasing and he pushes himself up so that he’s above the dark haired teen, a hand planted firmly on the mattress on either side of Ace’s shoulders. “And what are they?”

“I’m not telling.”

Duo pouts. “Mean.”

“Whoever said I was nice?” Ace asks, lips curling into a smirk. He reaches up and brushes Duo’s hair back out of his face, tucking it behind his ear, before his fingers trail down his right cheek, tracing the pale lines of the lightning that are forever scarred into his skin.

Duo lets out a huff of laughter, ruining the pout, and it morphs into smile as he leans down to kiss him

The kiss is slow, unhurried. They have nothing pressing they have to hurry off and do, no obligations waiting for them. No annoying siblings or friends with bad timing to interrupt them. They can take however long they want this morning.

It’s a while before they talk again.

*~*~*

“What time is it?”

Ace presses a kiss to Duo’s bare shoulder and then pushes himself up onto one arm, reaching over to grab his phone from the bedside table. “Uhh, ten minutes after noon.”

Duo groans and then stretches out like a cat, flopping face down onto the pillows. “I’m hungry.”

“Yeah?” Ace suppresses a smile, but his lips still twitch a little. It’s not all that surprising though. They haven’t eaten in more than twelve hours. He starts to run a hand through Duo’s hair, petting idly and not to cause distraction. “What do you want?”

The other boy turns his head and looks at Ace. “I dunno. I’m sort of feeling Chinese though.” He frowns, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, like he’s not quite sure about whatever thought has just passed through his mind. “And cupcakes.”

Ace’s hand stills. “…At the same time?” His tone is light and teasing, but there’s a hint of uncertainty to it. Duo tends to like food combinations that would make other people gag on sight alone, so it’s not that much of stretch to think he might _want_ Chinese food and cupcakes mashed together in some sort of weird concoction.

Duo gives him a flat look. “Of course not. That’d be gross.” He scrunches up his nose. “Ew.”

Ace laughs and kisses his forehead. “Okay. Chinese and cupcakes, but _not_ together. Any particular type of cupcake?”

Duo shakes his head. “No, not really. Maybe something with sour cream though? I think it’s more of a texture-based craving then strictly a flavour one.”

Ace nods and pushes himself up into a sitting position, a curtain of black hair falling in front of his eyes. “Well, we can figure that out while we’re eating.” He pushes his hair back before kicking his legs free of the bedsheets and swinging them over the edge of the bed. The mattress shifts while he’s looking for his pants, indicating that Duo has gotten up too, searching for his own clothes.

Ace makes a small noise of accomplishment in the back of his throat when he manages to find the dark gray sweatpants he’d worn to bed the night before. It’s not like his room is a mess, but sometimes clothes get tossed and land in different places than he expects them too. These ones have somehow managed to slide across his floor and end up jammed under his desk. Standing, he walks over to the desk, yanks them out of the small space they were hidden in and pulls them on.

“When did Sonya and Raiden leave?”

“Mm?” Ace turns and glances at Duo as he moves across the room, stopping in front of his bedside table. “Early this morning I think.” He says as starts pulling bobby pins and a hair elastic out of the shot glass that sits next to his lamp, doubling as a container for his collection of pins and a handful of hair elastics. He vaguely remembers hearing them move around downstairs when he’d gotten up to go to the bathroom before crawling back into bed. “It was still dark.” The words are muffled, bobby pins dangling from his teeth as practiced hands work to pull his hair away from his face and tie it back before he pins it up. He should probably get it trimmed to a more manageable length soon – his hair goes down almost to his knees when it’s loose and there is only so much elastics, pins, and clips can do to keep it out of the way – but for now he doesn’t find it to be too much of a hassle to tie it back, so he’ll keep it this way. When it starts to get really annoying, that’s when he’ll cut it

Duo snickers from where he’s standing at the window. The pair of old blue plaid pajama pants he’s wearing hang low on his hips and he’s grabbed one of Ace’s t-shirts – whether on purpose or by accident, Ace isn’t sure – the black material hanging loose off his thinner frame. The collar slides down off his right shoulder, exposing pale skin.

Definitely on purpose.

“Wanted to get a head start did they?”

Ace rolls his eyes as he slides the last pin into place. His hair is now pulled into a messy bun. It’s not the best – it’s loose and slightly lopsided and bound to come apart sooner than later, but it will do. They aren’t exactly planning on leaving the house today and if they do he’ll redo it. “You’re one to talk.” He says dryly, giving his lover a pointed look.

The white haired teen grins. “I didn’t hear you complaining when I had your di – mrnff –”

(Ace rolled across the mattress, landed on his feet on the other side and grabbed Duo’s jaw, stopping him from speaking, all in one fluid motion in a matter of seconds.)

“Shush you.” Ace’s lips twitch into a smirk. He taps Duo’s nose with the index finger of his free hand. “Man, you’re cheeky today. Maybe I should find something else for that pretty little mouth of yours to do, hmm?”

Duo grabs Ace’s wrist and yanks his hand away from his jaw. “Insatiable.” he says, laughter bubbling up from the back of his throat.

“Eager.” Ace shoots back as Duo let’s go of his wrist and the dark haired teen lets his arm fall back to his side.

“I can’t help it.” Duo’s grin is wider as he crosses his arms lazily across his chest. It’s a teasing grin. A Cheshire cat grin. He tilts his head to the side, snow white hair falling in front of ice blue eyes. “We so rarely get the house to ourselves after all. Can you blame me if I wanna take advantage of it?”

Ace snorts. “No. Otherwise, I’d be a hypocrite, wouldn’t I?”

Duo is right after all. They rarely get so much time to themselves at home, so they take full advantage of it whenever they can get it. Usually they’re out or away on work – or one of them is – and if they are at home then there’s always at least one other person in the house with them and the risk of getting walked in on is a high one. It’s a downside to having six people live in the same house, he supposes. Not that’s much of a problem. The house is big enough to fit all of them and then some without having them trip over one another or feel cramped. And it’s not like they can’t sneak off somewhere if they really want to be alone for a while, but it’s nice when they can have some downtime to just themselves without feeling like a pair of delinquents.

As it is, Ash and Eva are away in Europe – France maybe, or Greece, Ace doesn’t know the exact details – on a job and they plan on going to Italy for a week afterwards as a mini vacation, so the remaining four decided to do the same and take a small break. They’ll still fight the Twisted if the need arises, but they won’t be taking any jobs from Jay for the week. As per the long standing agreement they have, the ones who’d gotten the house last time something like this had happened – Raiden and Sonya in this case – switched off and headed off to hole up in a hotel for a few days. Next time it will be Ace and Duo’s turn.

Duo snickers and opens his mouth to say something, but is cut off by his stomach growling its loud protests at still being empty. He closes his mouth and looks down at his stomach, eyebrows raised as if daring it to growl at him again.

Ace bites his lip to keep from laughing at the look on his lover’s face. “Come on,” he says, lips twitching upwards. “Let’s order some food, yeah?”

Still looking a little affronted that his stomach would dare betray him like that, Duo huffs and puts his hands on his hips, glaring at his stomach again. “Yes please. Preferably before my stomach considers _eating itself_ as a viable option.” He mutters this with one last dark look, before stalking out of the room and downstairs with another small huff.

Ace follows, a grin on his face and he shakes his head with found exasperation. You’d think Duo had never been hungry in his life.

When he gets to the living room, Duo is already stretched out on their dark leather couch, fingers tapping idly on his chest. Ace’s laptop is sitting on the coffee table where he left it last night, still turned off.

Duo knows he can use Ace’s things without asking, that he has explicit permission to do so, but it’s still nice that he’ll wait for him to get there to use it instead. The black haired teen supposes it’s an autonomy thing. They spent their formative years being poked and prodded at, personal boundaries and sense of self non-existent, so when they were given the ability to have control over their bodies, their selves, and their own things, they relished in it. Being able to make their own choices – being able to say _no_ and have people respect that – had been a heady rush.

(Ace is pretty sure that’s the biggest reason Ash dresses like neon rainbow vomit nine days out of ten.

Because they can.)

Ace walks over to the couch and Duo sits up so that Ace doesn’t have to sit on _him_ , curling up against his side automatically once he’s settled.

They don’t always _have_ to be touching one another, but it’s reassuring all the same.

Once the computer is booted up and he’s logged in, Ace clicks into his browser and searches for their usual local Chinese restaurant. Looking at the menu, they quickly decide on what they want – which could be summed up as rice, rice and more rice with some other things thrown in for good measure  – and Ace places the order. Now all they have to do is wait.

“Wanna watch something?”

Ace shrugs, making a small hum in the back of his throat as he closes the laptop and puts it down on the end-table next to the couch. Duo knows this translates to ‘sure,’

Duo grins and uncurls himself. “Movie or TV?”

“Movie.” And then before Duo can ask, “Animated.”

Duo makes a small humming noise as he mentally goes through their choices. “Toy Story?”

“Mhm.”

“You know, you _could_ talk more.” Duo teases as he walks over to the TV stand. Kneeling, he opens the cabinet underneath it, going straight to the shelf they keep the Disney and other animated movies on, jumping to the ‘T’s. He finds the movie easily and pulls it out.

Eva had, years ago, demanded that all their movies were sorted by category (Live Action, Animated, and Home – TV shows had their own shelf and were sorted alphabetically and by season) and then alphabetized in said category. Otherwise, they’d probably never find what they were looking for. Not for the first time, Duo is grateful for her insistence in this system. “We’re alone and I _know_ you can.”

“This is fine.” Ace says with a grin that Duo can’t see but can still feel. “Besides, you know what I mean just fine without words.”

Duo hums in assent and places the disk in the player, the thing turning on automatically when he hits the ‘ _open_ / _close’_ button. Ace has a point. They could probably pull off talking in only gestures and small noises if they wanted too. And that’s without taking the whole _‘Telepathically Linked’_ thing that the six of them have going on into account.

Standing, Duo goes back to the couch and snags the remotes from the coffee table and hits the power button for the TV. They get through the previews, watching them just for the hell of it, and the first five minutes of the movie before the doorbell rings.

Ace untangles himself from his boyfriend with light sigh and moves around the coffee table, going down the hall to get to the door as Duo presses pause. He doesn’t need too, they’ve probably seen this movie probably close to a hundred times over the years, but it’s still a nice gesture. Grabbing his wallet from where it lies with their keys in a shallow grey stone dish on an end-table by the door, Ace opens the door, greeting the bored looking teen on the other side.

“That’ll be fifty-six dollars and five – whoa.”  The delivery girl’s face goes pink at the sight of him. She hands him the large brown bag with their order, stammering and blushing the whole time, and she’s so flustered she almost forgets to hand him the card reader so he can pay.

Puzzled by her odd behavior, it’s not until after he’s paid her and closed the door that he realizes he’d answered the door without a shirt on.

Oh.

Right.

He shrugs as he drops his wallet back in the dish and walks down the hall back to the living room. Oh well. It’s not his fault she gets distracted and flustered by shirtless boys, and it’s not like he did it on purpose. She’s probably seen weirder things on her deliveries anyway. Or she will – a shirtless boy that she’ll interact with for less than five minutes is not that big a deal in the long run.

Ambling back into the living room, he drops the bag onto the coffee table, noticing that while he was gone Duo had grabbed a pair of forks from the kitchen. Sitting down, Ace opens the bag and Duo presses play again as Ace hands him his first container of rice (something with pineapple – Ace doesn’t ask as he grabs his own container of – relatively normal – barbequed pork fried rice) and they settle in.

By the time the movie ends, they’ve both gotten through their first containers and are half-way through their second ones (both of which are of the normal chicken fried variety) and as the credits roll across the TV screen, Ace sets his rice down and grabs his laptop, opening his browser to the home page of the Food Network.

(No, he does not have the site bookmarked. Of course not. That’s ridiculous.)

“You wanted something with sour cream right?”

“Yeah.” Duo leans into his personal space, looking over his arm as he puts in the search criteria, his hair tickling Ace’s bare arm.

They spend the next few minutes scrolling through recipes and clicking the ones that look interesting, looking them over briefly before moving on.

“Oooh, that one looks good.”  Duo points to one and Ace smirks and clicks on the link. Chocolate Espresso Cupcakes sound like something Ash would pick simply because of the espresso and not necessarily flavour, but they do look good.

“Y’want these ones?”

“Mmhm. They look good. …Maybe we should double the recipe though.”

The recipe makes an even twenty-four, but there _is_ usually six of them and they all eat a lot. Ace knows that whatever they don’t eat, the others will.

“Okay – we’ll need everything other than salt, baking powder and baking soda then.” They probably have enough eggs and coco powder too, but it wouldn’t hurt to pick up some more. “And if we’re doubling it, we’ll need half a Paula Deen of butter, enough –”

“What the _ever-loving fuck_ is a _Paula Deen_ of butter?” Duo cuts him off, sounding scandalized, fork half-way to his mouth.

“Sixteen sticks –” Duo chokes on his rice and Ace rubs his back gently as he continues. “We need eight.”

Looking over the recipe again, the dark haired teen nods to himself. “Okay?” he asks glancing at Duo, concern lacing his tone.

“Yeah,” He looks a little shell-shocked, mouthing ‘ _sixteen sticks’_ soundlessly every ten seconds or so, but he’s not at risk for choking anymore. “I’m okay. I’m going to get changed”

“Okay.”

Getting up, Ace goes to the kitchen and grabs the notepad with the sparkly silver and purple stars off the fridge, rummaging around their junk drawer for a pen. Finding one, he scribbles on the corner of the paper to make sure it works before jotting down their grocery list. It’s mostly for Duo if he wants it, since Ace has an eidetic memory and doesn’t need lists to remember what they need. Ripping the piece of paper off the pad, he slaps it back on the fridge and drops the pen into the drawer, the drawer sliding shut with a muted ‘ _thunk’_ when he bumps it closed with a hip.

He drops the list on the coffee table next to his laptop. Copying the recipe, he pastes it into a word document, doubling the given amounts for the ingredients before hitting print. By the time he’s come back up from grabbing the recipe off the printer in the basement, Duo is back, fully dressed, leaning against the door-frame of the kitchen as he looks over the grocery list.

“That’s mine, isn’t it?” Ace asks, looking his boyfriend up and down. He’s wearing a pair of tight, skin hugging, dark blue ripped jeans and a black hoodie that’s clearly a few sizes too big for him, the sleeves covering his hands save for his long, delicate, fingers.

“Mm, yep.” Duo says, looking up as he pops the ‘p’, lips – shiny with what Ace knows is lip gloss, vanilla by the smell of it – curling into a grin. “Y’don’t mind, do you?”

Ace shakes his head wordlessly. Duo knows full well that he doesn’t mind when Duo wears his clothes. In fact Ace will find excuses for him to wear his clothes – not that Duo needs one – like some weird sort of marker that screams ‘ _mine’_ to people passing on the street. Duo can handle himself and Ace knows that it’s _him_ he comes home too at the end of the day, but, especially given what they’ve gone through in the last year, having a little something extra to tell people to back off – that no one is going to take them away from each other again – is somehow reassuring and calming, even if it is in the form of just a sweater.

(Eva thinks it’s a form of post-traumatic stress amplifying their animal instincts telling them to mark and protect what’s theirs any way they can. Ace wasn’t made to understand biology and brain chemistry the way his sister does, so he just smiles and nods and takes her word for it unless something comes up that disputes that theory.)

“Here.” He hands the recipe to his boyfriend as he passes, fingers brushing lightly across the pulse point of Duo’s wrist, before he heads upstairs to get dressed.

Entering his room (a rather large room with swirling patterns on the medium blue walls, large black bookcases against the far wall, black wooden furniture, and heavy black curtains over the windows. It’s a sharp contrast to Duo’s room which has dark navy blue walls with glow in the dark paint murals of the constellations on the walls and glow-in-the dark stars stuck all over the ceiling and white furniture) Ace pushes his sweatpants down, kicking his feet free before tossing them into the hamper, and pulls on a pair of boxers before yanking on a pair of well-worn black jeans that are torn at one knee. Pulling open the second drawer on his dresser, he rifles through his clean shirts before tugging out a T-shirt with the Batman logo on it, the splash of yellow the only colour in his otherwise black on faded-black outfit. Ash had gotten it for him as a joke on his last birthday, poking fun at their own origins and the fact that Ace is “Tall, Dark and Broody – just like Batman”. She hadn’t expected him to actually _like_ the shirt, let alone wear it.

Walking over to his bedside table, he starts pulling the bobby-pins out his hair, the hair tumbling out of its bun and down his back in a loose ponytail. He tugs the hair elastic out and runs his fingers through his hair a few times before pulling it back into another ponytail – tighter this time – and then sets about the task of plaiting it into a thick, thigh-high, braid.

Duo is waiting at the bottom of the stairs for him. “So whose car are we taking?” he asks, watching Ace’s braid sway ever so slightly as he passes. Ace knows that if he looks back, Duo’s pupils will be slitted like a cat’s more than usual.

Ace shrugs as he grabs his wallet and keys from the dish. “Mine?”

Duo scoffs. “Rock Paper Scissors.” He declares, grabbing his own, stuffing them into a pocket of his jeans.

“Best two out of three.” Ace agrees.

“Rock paper scissors.”

Tie. Scissors.

“Rock paper scissors.”

Again, it’s a tie. Both rock this time.

“Rock paper scissors.”

Scissors

“Rock paper scissors.”

Paper. Duo huffs, mutters “come _on_ ,” under his breath.

“Rock paper scissors.”

Tie breaker. Rock beats Scissors. Ace smirks, Duo glares. “ _Two_ out of three. You haven’t won yet.”

“Rock paper scissors.”

Paper.

“Rock paper scissors.”

Rock.

“Rock paper scissors.”

Rock again.

“Rock Paper scissors.”

Scissors beat paper. Duo grins, showing teeth. Ace rolls his eyes.

“Rock paper scissors.”

Paper. Duo lets out a frustrated growl.

“Rock paper scissors.”

Paper beats Rock. Ace’s smirk is smug as he spins his keys around his left index finger. Duo rolls his eyes, lips twitching upward as he moves toward the door leading to the garage, slipping on a pair of ratty old tennis shoes. Ace follows behind, sliding on his black and red sneakers.

He crosses the garage, heading for his car (well, one of them), a black Pontiac Solstice convertible as Duo locks up behind them. Ace climbs into the driver’s seat and presses the button on the garage door opener as Duo follows. He stops at his own car – a smooth purple Porsche 911 – grabbing something from the driver’s side before striding over to the Pontiac. He slips the sunglasses onto his face as he slides into the car.

“Ready?”

“Yep. Let’s do this thing.”

The engine roars to life and Ace pulls out of the garage and down the drive, the garage door gliding shut as they pull into the street.

It’s a warm, overcast, day in late May and its hot enough to be comfortable in shorts and tank-tops if they wanted, but still cool enough that they – Duo especially – won’t be melting in heavier clothes. Duo glances at the thick cloud cover the sky is giving them from the sun and pushes his sunglasses up to the top of his head, the glasses acting as a sort of makeshift headband and keeping his hair from falling into his eyes. The sun isn’t coming through strong enough to make a difference between the amount of natural light inside and the light outside, making his light-sensitivity nearly a non-issue at the moment, so he’s fine without them for now.

The drive to grocery store is a short one. It’s even shorter than usual because the streets are empty and Ace doesn’t particularly care for speed limits, especially not when there aren’t a lot of civilians who could get hurt around. After they slide into a parking spot, Duo undoes his seatbelt and swings himself up and over the edge of the door, shooting Ace a grin when he lands lightly on the asphalt on the other side.

Ace chuckles and gives Duo a fond look as he shuts off the engine and climbs out of the car.

He’s suddenly hit with the scent of watermelon and he glances over at Duo, the other teen is holding out a pack of bubble gum. “Want some?”

Ace shakes his head.

A shrug. “Suit yourself.” Duo takes a stick and pops into his mouth, slipping the pack back into a pocket of his jeans as they cross the parking lot.

Ace grabs a cart near the door, a rush of cool air greeting them as they enter the store. He frowns at the change in the air as he tries not to sneeze, dust tickling his nose. Air from an air conditioner always has a slight edge to it that says ‘fake’ even though they know that’s not the case.

The switch from natural light to artificial is, as most light always is, a bit of a shock to Duo’s system at first. It’s not painful – this time – but everything looks and feels …duller somehow under the fluorescents and it leaves him blinking for a few minutes. Ace gently takes Duo’s arm and leads them off to the side so they aren’t in the way while his lover gets his equilibrium back.

They all have enhanced senses (after all what’s the point of making genetic super-weapons if you’re not going to enhance their basic senses?) but Duo’s more sensitive to light then the rest of them if it’s not his own. Ace has seen the boy glow like a star and not even flinch, but any light other than the one he can produce himself always leaves him blinking or flinching for a while – either too bright or not bright enough – as his eyes adjust. More than that though, any more than ten minutes of direct sunlight and even with the strongest sunscreen, Duo will end bight lobster red.

(After the time he got four full-body sunburns within weeks of one another, he started using a parasol when he left the house on sunny days to help keep the sun off of him if he’s going to be out for a while, and he and Raiden regularly joke about who has the most ironic weakness. Is it the one who can produce and manipulate his own light being light-sensitive to the point of pain, or the asthmatic who can control wind and air (and fly!) but can’t seem to catch his breath?)

“We should probably start with the dry ingredients and work our way to the refrigerated stuff.” Duo mutters a minute later, pulling the list out from the pouch of his hoodie. He unfolds it and looks it over while he blows a bubble with his gum. They can get most of this in the baking aisle, so they’ll start there. With that in mind, he grabs the cart and starts walking in the direction of the aisles.

Ace falls into step behind him like an overgrown shadow or a large attack cat. It will always amaze him how - even when he’s slumped over a shopping cart, leaning his arms on the push-bar, shopping list held loosely between his fingers, and blowing bubble gum, looking to all the world like a bored teenager - gracefully Duo moves, loping slowly through the aisle like a predator following after its prey.

Like he was projecting his thoughts, Duo looks up at him, dropping a large bag of flour in the cart with a ‘ _thunk’_ , smirking as he snaps his gum. “Stop staring at my ass. You can’t even see it past the sweater anyway.”

Ace’s lips curl into a predatory smirk that makes Duo’s cheeks flush, and he stalks forward, lightly pinching Duo’s waist as he passes, making the other boy squeak in surprise. “I like staring at your ass.” He doesn’t have to mention that he knows exactly what Duo’s butt looks like even under his clothes. He grabs three bags of powdered sugar and drops them into the cart next to the flour.

“We need enough for ten cups.” he explains, ignoring how Duo’s eyes go wide at the amount. “One bag’s only enough for four.”

“Right.” Duo mutters, voice faint, as he grabs two bars of baking chocolate and a bag of regular white sugar, tossing them into the cart too. “I don’t know why that surprises me since we also need _eight freakin’ sticks of butter_.”

“Still stuck on that, huh?”

“Oh yeah.”

They finish up in the baking aisle and make a quick stop at the coffee aisle, grabbing the espresso powder and chocolate covered espresso beans. Duo disappears to another aisle, only to reappear less than a minute later with a container of gummy worms. Ace raises an eyebrow. Duo shrugs. “For snacking,” he explains with a grin as he drops it into the cart.

Ace shrugs back in return. “Right.”

Crossing the store to the dairy and egg section (and why the eggs are next to the milk, Duo doesn’t know; it’s just one of those things about grocery store layouts he guesses) Duo gets the eggs and then the sour cream and whipping cream while Ace grabs the ungodly amounts of butter that they need before they make their way to the checkout.

The cashier doesn’t even blink at their items, although she does do a small double-take at the sight of the two of them. Ace knows it’s probably at the contrast they create standing next to one another. Slender gymnast Duo, with his pale skin, faded scars, pale blue eyes and stark white hair standing next to the broad shouldered, olive skinned, black haired, and amber-eyed Ace who has no visible scars that her eyes can see and is several inches taller than his boyfriend. The difference between them is striking, like night and day.

It’s rude to stare though, so Ace glares at her until she looks away. Duo just ignores her – it’s not worth it in his mind. People will always stare – let them. Ace can be the one to intimidate them into looking away.

Grabbing their bags, they leave the store and cross the parking lot to the car. Once everything is in the trunk and Ace is sure the eggs won’t end up crushed on the drive back home the get back into the car and head home.

*~*~*

Back in their kitchen, Duo sets up the stand mixer and starts lining the two twenty-four cup cupcake trays they’ll be using after washing his hands and getting rid of his gum, and Ace starts measuring things out. Since there’s six of them in one house and because both Eva and Ace cook or bake as stress relief (not to mention all the times the others will find themselves in the kitchen in the early morning because making something is easier than sleeping – Duo has honestly lost count of how many times he’s walked in on Ash making ‘Surprise It’s Four A.M.!’ Muffins or done the same) the kitchen is pretty well stocked when it comes to appliances and cookware, so it’s not hard to make large batches of stuff all at once.

“Oh man,” Duo says with a grin, leaning against the counter next to the sink. He pushes his hair out of his eyes (his sunglasses are back in his car now that he’s back home so they aren’t keeping it in place anymore). “The other’s will never let us hear they end of it if they find out we did this.”

Ace snorts as he starts chopping up the chocolate. Accidently set the curtains on fire _once_ when you’re fourteen because you got distracted by your boyfriend’s lips for all of five minutes and get banned from cooking with said boyfriend without supervision for the rest of your life.

 _Please_. They have more self-control then that, they _are_ capable of keeping their hands to themselves for a few hours.

Probably.

Besides, Sonya has set more things on fire then any of them combined and no one bans _her_ from cooking unsupervised.

(He’s conveniently forgetting that Sonya can _control_ fire, so she can easily deal with any fires she may or may not accidently start.)

He smirks. “We just won’t tell them then. Grab me a pot?”

“Oooh, lying by omission. Sexy.” Duo teases. “What size?”

“Medium.”

Duo doesn’t say anything as he pushes off the counter. Ace doesn’t lift his head from where he’s still meticulously chopping the chocolate, but the sudden sound of metal on metal as pots are moved around tells him that Duo has done what he’s asked.

“Here.” Duo puts the pot down on the counter next to him.

“Thank you.”

Duo hums a little in response, smiling as he runs his fingers across Ace’s shoulders as he passes, and goes over to the iPod dock that sits on the counter, pushed back into a corner out of the way. There’s an iPod touch plugged into it and he reaches over and turns everything on, flicking through the touchscreens to the playlist he wants and hits shuffle

They have their own smaller personal ones, but when there’s six people with varying music tastes, odds are that, even if there is some overlap, one of them will hate most of the songs on someone else’s. In an effort to stop the fights after the fifth time an argument about whose turn it was to pick the music while they cooked escalated to where someone ended up bleeding, Ginny had gone out and bought one with the biggest capacity they had. Then she’d all but slammed it down on the table in the middle of breakfast the next day, told the six of them to put all their music on it and hit shuffle the next time they were in the kitchen and wanted to listen to something. She ended it by saying that, in no uncertain terms, the next time one of them implied that another’s IQ was in anyway related to the music they listed to or someone ended up bleeding over _music choice_ of all things, she’d ground them.

Except when updating the music on it, it doesn’t leave the kitchen. There’s an individual playlist for each of them to put their music in and then a playlist for any combination of the six of them and, depending on who’s cooking, that’s the playlist they use. It’s an effective system and it keeps the peace.

As the first song starts, Duo walks back over to where the ingredients are laid out next to the recipe. Ace is by the stove, stirring the chocolate, about half the butter and what smells like both the coco and espresso powders together in the pot. A quick glance at the recipe confirms it. “Want me to do anything else?”

“You could make the frosting while I work on the batter.”

“Alright.”  Duo checks the recipe for the instructions on the frosting and then pulls out another mixing bowl, a fork, and their electric hand-mixer. Pouring in the cream and the second measurement of espresso powder. He’s just started stirring them together with the fork when the second song comes on and he glances at Ace, lips twitching into a smirk.

Ace very pointedly locks eyes with him and gives him a sultry look, as he and the song repeat the first line. “Oh, you touch my tralala.”

Duo snickers and he puts the bowl on the counter before pretending to swoon. “You tease me, oh please me, I want you to be my love toy,” he sings back, not quite mimicking the female singer’s voice, and Ace gives him a lewd grin.

Duo winks.

The rest of the song passes without any further incident, the two of them singing along. The white haired teen finishes up the frosting just as the song ends and the next one begins. Duo freezes and Ace’s eyebrows shoot upwards like they can’t quite believe what they’re hearing. Of all the songs to follow _that_ one of course it would be _this_ one.

Duo laughs so hard that he snorts. He slaps a hand over his mouth, his other one gripping the edge of the counter to keep himself standing as he shakes with laughter. “I think the iPod is trying to tell us something.”

“That we need Jesus probably.” Ace deadpans as he turns off the stand mixer, batter almost ready. He just needs to add the chocolate mixture, but that needs to cool for another fifteen minutes before it can be added.

This causes another round of cackling laughter to bubble up and Duo wraps both arms around his middle as he stumbles backwards, like they’re the only thing keeping him from bursting apart at the seams.

 _Take Me to Church_ continues to play through the dock’s speakers.

“You gonna be okay?” Ace asks with a raised eyebrow. Duo’s laughing so hard he’s gone silent.

Duo nods, biting his cheek. The pain helps clear his head enough that he can stop and catch his breath. “Yeah, I’ll be – I’ll be fine.” He scrubs his hands over his face, wiping away the tears of laughter that are running down his cheeks. “Oh my god, that was just too perfect.” He rips a sheet of paper towel off the roll and wipes away the rest of the wetness on his face.

Shaking his head, still snickering, he breathes in until his cheeks are puffed out and then slowly exhales. Calmer now, Duo turns and walks to the other end of their L-shaped counter. Opening a drawer next to the cupboard where they keep all the mixers and blender when they aren’t in use, he pulls out a piping bag and selects a tip.

There’s still some frosting on the side of the bowl when Duo’s done spooning it into the piping bag. Glancing over at Ace, he smirks, a mischievous thing, and swipes a finger through it. Sauntering over to Ace, the taller male raises an eyebrow at him. “What?”

That grin rarely means anything good and Ace knows it.

“You’ve got something…” Duo runs his finger across Ace’s collarbone, smearing the frosting onto his skin.

“Don’t you dare –”

Duo leans in and runs his tongue across his lover’s skin, across his collarbone and up the column of his throat. Ace’s breath hitches.

 “I’ll get you back for that.”

Duo raises an eyebrow, smirk firmly in place. Ace almost sounds _breathless_. It’s quite the rush and it makes him bold. “What, you’ll spank me?”

There’s a growl in his voice as he reaches out and grabs Duo by his hips and this time it’s Duo’s breath that hitches. “Don’t tempt me Kitten.”

“What if I _want_ to tempt you?”

Ace groans and drops his head onto Duo’s shoulder. “You’re a damn tease.” He mutters against Duo’s skin. He can tell Ace is smiling.

He laughs. “You love me for it.”

“Yeah.”

*~*~*

“Now we just have to wait thirteen minutes.” Ace says, sliding the cupcake trays into the oven. He sets the timer. If he doesn’t, he knows it will end up being the Curtain Incident all over again.

“Hm.”  Duo finishes wiping down the counters, the dishwasher chugging away near silently beside him. Other then that and the cupcakes in the oven, there’s no sign they were in the kitchen at all. He turns off the iPod, cutting off the song coming through the speakers mid-lyric

“So,” he says as he walks over to the kitchen table. Instead of pulling out a chair, he hops up and sits on the edge. “What should we do for thirteen minutes?”

Ace walks over and places his hands down on the table on either side of Duo. “You could blow me.” He murmurs with a smirk, their lips almost touching.

“Mm, I _could_ …” Duo sighs loftily and tilts his head to the side. There’s a smile playing at the edges of his lips as he wraps his arms around Ace’s neck. “What’s in it for me?”

“Do you need a reason?”

“Mmm, no.”

*~*~*

They go back into the living room and put in another movie – Clue, because who doesn’t like a comedy about murder? – because No Sex In The Kitchen is a House Rule, and not one either of them is stupid enough to break.

Duo blows Ace on the couch and, once they take the cupcakes out and let them cool, Ace returns the favour.

*~*~*

Ace’s eyebrows shoot upwards at the noise that slips out of Duo’s mouth when he bites into a finished cupcake. It’s downright sinful. “Good?”

“Mhm.”

“Satisfy your craving?”

“Mhm.” Duo tosses the liner in the trash and licks the frosting from fingers. He gives Ace a coy smile. “Wanna taste?”

Ace smirks and steps into Duo’s space. “You’re so transparent.” He teases, placing his hands on Duo’s hips.

“Mm, you love me anyway.”

“Yeah.” Ace leans in and presses their lips together.

The kiss tastes like frosting.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Ves’tacha:** From Mercedes Lackey's _The Heralds of Vlademar_ books and is generally taken to mean 'beloved' or 'most loved'. A few sources I found also listed this as the Romani word for beloved and since Ace is Romani, I thought it would be a fitting term of endearment for him. If anyone can confirm this or inform me of the actual Romani word for beloved, it would be much appreciated.


End file.
